


thy kiss a philter

by Anonymous



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/M, Human Names Used, Not Beta Read, Vaginal Sex, czechia is trying to keep whatever sanity she has left in her, lucien is a vampire and Demands the attention of his lover, takes place in the 1800s but thats not important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Lucien's  widened; seeing her so vulnerable filled him with blissful ecstasy like no other. To have his dearly beloved willingly give her body and mind to him and only him—howromantic.
Relationships: Czech Republic/Luxembourg (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Anonymous





	thy kiss a philter

**Author's Note:**

> ludmila - czechia & lucien - luxembourg.
> 
> in which miss czechia is in a loveless marriage and seeks the company of her lover. luckily, lucien is more than happy to oblige her...

“Madame Ludmila?”  
  
Her body stills instantaneously at the voice of her maid, the cool and sharp air prickling against her naked skin. With panicked eyes, she fixes her gaze on the man beneath her, his lips gently kissing the tenderness of her thighs with unbothered carelessness. He only then decided to pause his ministrations when his mistresses’ saccharine mewls no longer reached him.   
  
He threw a hostile stare towards the wooden door—an expression that Ludmila recognised as annoyance and jealousy—but it disappears all too quickly when he returns her gaze. He presses his teeth into her skin, and smiles dangerously.   
  
Ludmila flushed a deep red.  
  
Not wanting to take the risk of being seen, she answers her maid, all the while keeping her voice composed despite the gasps that were threatening to leave from her lips. “Is that you, Anne?”  
  
“Forgive my intrusion at this late hour, Madam, but I heard a noise coming from your room. Are you alright?”  
  
Lucien’s wandering lips eventually find its way to the entrance of her core. Ludmila instantly sends a narrow glare towards him, a warning. He takes no heed to her wordless reprimanding, and only hums in reply as he lets his palms graze across her smooth, milky, skin. He could drown in these legs, Lucien thought.  
  
“I-I’m fine, Anne! I merely lost my footing and stepped on something.”  
  
His patience was growing thin. Without much warning, he pushes the thin fabric to the side and teased the nub between her legs, earning a surprised gasp from his mistress. The sound delighted him, of course, but it was not enough to satisfy Lucien’s hunger.  
  
Anne, who only grew worried at her Madam’s response, continued to probe. She kept one palm on the door, the other nearly twisting the golden handle open. She leans her body closer, her ear pressing against the white wooden doors of the bedroom. It was unlike for her Madam to stutter; she had always been clear with her words, eloquence and grace dripping from her tongue. Was she truly alright? Her Madam had always been prone to keeping her troubles to herself. Perhaps something was wrong, after all.  
  
“Shall I get some ice for you, Madame?”  
  
Lucien inserts a finger in her core, and then carefully adds another one just when she thought she was slowly adjusting to his touch. Ludmila swallowed a high squeak before it escaped from her lips, and Lucien only watched in pure amusement at his dear mistress writhing helplessly under him.  
  
The reply had been instant as it had been before, and just as panicked. “No! No, it’s completely fine now. I b-barely feel anything at all. You may take your leave.”  
  
Anne hesitated, her brows furrowing in conflicted thought.  
  
“Of course. Goodnight, Madame.”  
  
It takes a moment for her maid to leave. Once Ludmila heard Anne’s footsteps fading further away from her room, her shoulders eased significantly.   
  
Lucien lifted his head to press a kiss on her jaw. “My mistress is a filthy woman,” he whispers sweetly. “Tightening around my fingers like a _dirty whore_. Does the notion of being caught excite you, Ludmila?”  
  
“ _Lucien,_ ” She couldn’t bear to think of anything else apart from his name. All thoughts were lost, and try as she might, Ludmila only found herself focusing on the sensation of Lucien’s fingers inside her.  
  
“How will you react to your husband catching us, I wonder?” He continues, hot breath hitting her skin. “Though, I suppose that doesn’t matter. You’ll be squirming in deep pleasure that you probably won’t realise that your husband’s there.”  
  
His pace starts off as slow and languid, much to the dissatisfaction of Ludmila. Lucien doesn’t fail to notice it either; with the way Ludmila’s brows were creasing and her lips formed in a thin frown, he knew very well that Ludmila wanted— _needed_ —more. His mistress has always been greedy, after all. Not that he minded. But he wasn’t planning on giving her what she wanted; not yet, at least. Not without hearing her plea.  
  
“ _Lucien_ ,” she groans once again. “ _Please._ ”  
  
“Oh, Ludmila,” he croons, a sadistic smile appearing on his lips. “You can beg better than that. I know you can.” His movements gradually went slower by each stroke, almost to the point where he was barely moving his fingers at all, earning a whine from Ludmila. Lucien's smile widened; seeing her so vulnerable filled him with blissful ecstasy like no other. To have his dearly beloved willingly give her body and mind to him and only him—how _romantic_.  
  
“Go on,” Lucien encourages her. “Say ‘ _I want you to fill me deep with your cock_ ’. You can say that, can’t you?”  
  
If the redness on her cheeks were not evident in the beginning, it certainly was now. Ludmila had known Lucien to be respectable and polite with both his words and manners; she had never heard such crude phrases come out of his lips. Was this positively the very same Lucien that took her out to the gardens and gifted her with exotic flowers from the East; was this the same Lucien that recited tender and amorous poetry every night? It couldn’t be.  
  
“I—” She stopped, her face burning with crimson. “ _I… can’t_. It’s embarrassing, Lucien.”  
  
“You can’t?” He tilts his head to the side innocently (the audacity of him, Ludmila thinks, for his actions were far from innocent) his disappointment clearly apparent in his tone. “Well then, I suppose that I should stop—”  
  
“No!” Ludmila stopped him before he could take his fingers inside her. From the way he was looking at her, he didn’t seem to be in the least surprised at her sudden outburst; in fact, he almost looked smug. _Of course_ he knew that she didn’t want him to stop. Lucien was teasing her from the very beginning. Ludmila inhaled a deep breath as she gathered as much courage she could muster: “I want… I want you to fill me deep with your… cock.”  
  
“What was that? Speak up, Ludmila. I couldn’t hear you.”  
  
“I want you to fill me deep with your cock!” She could no longer handle waiting any longer. Ludmila liked to think that she had much patience, but even a person such as her had their own limits. She looked at him helplessly, begging. “Please! I need you… I need you inside me!”  
  
Lucien relished at her desperate words with much gratification. Not even the most infamous of classical scores and operas could rival the sound of Ludmila’s voice. He placed a chaste kiss on her neck, as if to reward her for her compliance, smirking underneath his kisses.   
  
“So eager, my mistress…” He purrs.  
  
Then again, so was he.  
  
And with a request like that from his sweet mistress, how could he bring himself to deny her? Lucien wasted no time in removing his fingers from her (an annoyed sigh from Ludmila’s lips following soon after) and taking his already hardened length out from the confines of his pants. Ludmila watched, embarrassed, as he used his hands that he had put inside her to wrap around his cock, pumping it slowly with her juices on his hands. Lucien looks down at her, taking in the sight of her half naked and sprawled on the bed, and positions himself in her core.  
  
“So good,” he mumbles deeply, thrusting his hips forward to push himself further inside her. His length, coated with her wet slick from his stunt prior at the start, made it easy for him to move inside her walls. “ _It’s like you were made for me.”_  
  
“ _Yes,_ ” She snakes her arms around his neck to pull him closer, to feel his body against hers. The intimacy between their bodies makes her moan rapturously. “I’m yours,” Unconsciously, she finds herself wrapping her legs around his body. “All of me; I’m yours!”  
  
“Say that again.”  
  
Ludmila is quick to abide by his demand. “I’m yours,” she repeats, trying not to slur over her words. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours—!”  
  
He grabs her by the hips and quickened his pace, his mouth spilling Ludmila’s name like a sacred prayer (he had thought this ironic; taking into consideration of what he was, the concept of a God—or any higher being—was purely nonexistent to him; but with Ludmila—with Ludmila, he saw her as his God, and for her, he would bend the world to its knees). He brings his lips to kiss her on the neck, to her plump breast, and then finally to her lips. Ludmila reciprocated with just as much fervour and passion on her tongue, moaning in between heavy breaths. She paused momentarily to look at him, drawing one hand to cup his cheek before kissing him again.  
  
Lucien was close, and judging by the way she was clenching around him, she was as well.  
  
He kept his rhythmic movements, his hands on her hips gripping tightly on her skin hard enough to leave bruises. Ludmila did not seem to mind the rough treatment, instead only encouraging him as she whispered for him to go _faster_ and _deeper_ inside her, words almost incoherent from the pleasure that was engulfing her thoughts. He does just as that, not wanting to misuse what little time they have together in the night. Eventually, his movements grow erratic and unstable; Ludmila knew that he was nearing his climax.  
  
A sudden knock on the door startled her, followed by a familiar voice calling her name. “Madame Ludmila?”  
  
Ludmila quickly latches her teeth onto Lucien’s neck to silence her moans as her orgasm overtakes her, along with Lucien’s thick, warm, spurts hitting her deep in her walls. She holds on tightly to him, not wanting to let the cold get in between them. Both chests were heaving heavily as both of them tried to catch their breath. Ludmila was already much covered in her sweat, but Lucien—Lucien seemed like he had only just begun.  
  
“Madame Ludmila?” The voice calls again. It was Anne. “I was worried that you had gotten ill and brought you some ice. Shall I put it inside your room?”  
  
Ludmila whips her head towards the door, annoyed. She answered Anne with a friendly and open demeanor, careful to not let out the irritation in her voice: “You can leave them outside my door, Anne. Thank you. You’re very kind.”  
  
It was an odd request from her Madame, but Anne understood how much her Madame despised looking helpless in front of others. Hurriedly, she placed the bowl full of ice in front of the grand double doors of Ludmila’s bedroom and bid her second departure of the night, and walked away hoping that her Madame would at least feel better the next day.  
  
“Well,” Lucien grinned, once sure that the maid was finally away from them. He kissed Ludmila full on the lips, and only broke away from her to look at her eyes with a smile on his lips that was too mischevious to be considered good-natured. “How about another round, hmm?”


End file.
